


swoosh and plop

by mountsky



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), First Kiss, Hinata Shouyou is Sunshine, Kageyama Tobio-centric, M/M, Pro Volleyball Player Kageyama Tobio, Reporter Hinata Shouyou, Schweiden Adlers - Freeform, he said Fuck Heteronormativity, this took a weird melancholic turn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:41:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24408211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mountsky/pseuds/mountsky
Summary: “Amazing game, Kageyama-san,” the first reporter says and Tobio nods as politely as he can. It hadn’t been an amazing game, not really, he’d slacked in the second set, he’d misjudged his tosses, he’d almost lost the game. But she doesn’t care. “There’s rumours going around that you’ve been seen with a secret woman…"Tobio resists the urge to tense.And so it goes on.-the one where pro-athlete kageyama Tobio keeps getting asked if he has a girlfriend and reporter Hinata shouyou doesn't care for it.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio
Comments: 129
Kudos: 1191





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> [Luke](https://twitter.com/keijikids) made this [tweet](https://twitter.com/keijikids/status/1265624377111883779?s=20) and the idea wouldn't leave me alone and here we are
> 
> this assumes you're aware of the manga

Being an idol is weird.

Tobio knows he’s looked at, knows he’s watched through the screen, through tiny mobile phones, through windows and camera lenses. Since his debut he’s watched himself through those screens, seen his own skill develop, seen the way he commands the court and wonders why it is that no one else can see that. His fans claim they know him. They know his coffee order, they know his brand of running shoes. They know he lives alone in a penthouse. They know him. But do they really?  
 _  
“Kageyama, can you tell your fans if you have a girlfriend?”_  
  
He understands to some extent. When some of his fans look at him, he sees himself, young and waddling and witnessing his first ever volleyball game. His passion, flits into obsession, knows no bounds. So he gets it, understands how obsession can sweep someone of their feet, turn someone polite and calm into vicious and fevered. There’s no calming an obsession that grips you, forces you to dedicate hours and hours to it. But did it have to be-  
  
 _“Kageyama-san!”_  
  
This.  
  
 _“Over here, Kageyama Tobio!”_

Why this?

He can feel eyes on him as he wipes his face, knows that from the benches their coach is glaring them into PR submission, knows that even without the reporters clamouring for his specific attention he’d have no chance of simply slinking off. Fukuro has been swiped by Japan Today, Kourai is signing placards, Ushijima has his post-game playlist on and Tobio? Tobio sighs, dropping the sweat soaked towel to step towards the crowd of reporters, already feeling a stone settle in the put of his stomach at the sight of MTV access cards.   
  
“Amazing game, Kageyama-san,” the first says and Tobio nods as politely as he can. It hadn’t been an amazing game, not really, he’d slacked in the second set, he’d misjudged his tosses, he’d almost lost the game. But she doesn’t care. “There’s rumours going around that you’ve been seen with a secret woman…"  
  
Tobio resists the urge to tense.

  
And so it goes on.

* * *

Tobio doesn’t believe in love.  
  
Not in a tangible, specific sense. He doesn’t buy into the idea that someone can be perfect for you, not when you change every second of every day, can’t fathom handing someone his heart, not when they aren’t equipped to handle it.

Abstractly, he thinks about it. Maybe too many times not to flush over. He thinks about what it would be like to press his hand against someones thigh, instead of the volleyball he stares at. He thinks about buying sugar for the flat, making a coffee that tastes so different from his own. He thinks about waking up to faceless, nameless person, thinks about them kissing him because they want to, because they want him. He thinks about trailing his lips over a sharp jaw, broad shoulders, flat chest-   
  
Then he’ll stop himself from thinking about it at all. 

* * *

  
  
He loves his team. He truly loves his team. The skillset they possessed made them firm favourites, and their manager knows it. But Tobio’s no fool. Not really.

Does his manager genuinely believe in their athletic capabilities? No doubt. But he’s also an opportunist and Tobio represented an opportunity like no other. Monetising Tobio’s appeal to the female fanbase had propelled Addler’s reputation from pro-volleyball to celebrities and Tobio is their reluctant _"But handsome!"_ poster boy.   
  
He’s read what they say about him online, he knows what demographic his fanbase are, who gives them the views and the popularity. Red-faced and blood rushing to his head as Kourai chokes through his fourth story telling of the poorly written fiction he'd found on wattpad.

Stone cold, they gush. Untouchable king. A _real_ man, his fans say, and Tobio’s vision blurs with the pressure of what that means. Of what he has to hide.

Afterall, Kageyama Tobio is no fool.

It's easier to politely tell reporters he’s not interested in dating, that no he doesn’t have a girlfriend, doesn’t have an ideal _woman,_ doesn’t consider himself a playboy and won’t confess his crush. 

It’s easier to let them assume, he tells himself. Game after game, question after question.

And so it goes on.  
  
  


* * *

  
It’s post game like every other. They’d scraped the win and Tobio’s mood is- Sour. There’ll be a celebration later. Later, after they’ve had time to themselves to agonise over what they could’ve done different. Later, after Tobio wonders for the thousandth time if he can do this, if he is fit for teamsport, if he-   
  
There’s a commotion that makes him stop for a second, coming from the press panel. No ones really paying them any attention, so he doesn’t know why his own is drawn there at first. The _serious_ channels are already speaking to his captain, focused on a play by play of the game. His corner of reporters are the same as usual, photographers waiting by their pretty pretty newscasters and- Except its not the same. It’s not the same at all. Because there’s a newcomer and he’s pushed MTV and Buzzfeed out the way to get to the front.  
  
“Are you kidding?” The newcomer says, and his voice is so bright, so earnest its impossible not to focus on it. “You’re only gonna ask about romance when he did _swoooosh_ and dumped like _plop_ and-“   
  
His hair is obnoxiously bright orange, mostly hidden under a beanie that reads the words _Karasuno Neighbourhood Association_ and looks like the kid had sewn them on himself. He’s short, his hands are gesturing wildly, flinging around the tape recorder and all but challenging the reporters looking down at him.   
  
He has pins on his demin jacket, sleeves rolled up to expose freckled forearms, a smirk on his face. His sneakers are dirty, his everything is dirty but- In a way that makes Tobio think of long hikes, running up hills in training camps, taking his parents dog out to the forest.   
  
Tobio hates him.

Tobio can’t stop looking at him.   
  
“-The fans want to hear about it, he’s fine with it and-“  
  
Newcomer laughs, obnoxious and easy with his confidence. His jaw is sharp, but his smile- His smile is everything. Tobio doesn’t understand why he can’t stop looking.   
  
“Why don’t you ask him if he has a-“  
  
“Kageyama,” His coach calls and he jerks from his stupor, blinking in confusion, as the man points to him then to the press panel. Oh- That’s right. He had an image to project, and thousands of fangirls to update.  
  
Tobio clears his throat and walks up to the reporters waiting for his attention, carefully ensuring his gaze doesn’t linger on Newbie as he wonders why of all the players to try and interview he chose Tobio. If he’s here to talk volleyball he’d probably get out-screamed, Tobio tells himself, no point getting his hopes up.   
  
“Kageyama Tobio, great game today!” Tobio nods. It hadn’t been a great game, not really, he’d failed to make use of his spikers best assets.

Before she can continue, before she can even take a breath in, the mic in his face is suddenly pushed to the side and Tobio finds himself gazing down, down into those ridiculously bright eyes, sparkling and earnest and-  
  
“Kageyama-san, do you have a _boyfriend_?” Newcomer says, smirk on his lips.

The question absolutely blindsides him.

Tobio freezes. They all do.

He knows what he’s supposed to say, knows he’s supposed to part his lips and tell them words they’ve heard a million times before. But Tobio is feeling- God, he’s feeling something unrecognisable. It’s a ridiculous question still, he’s a pro-athlete. And yet, he feels emotion swell in his chest, feels heard and seen and considered and he can’t ignore this moment, this opportunity that orange-haired newcomer has given him.

He takes a deep breath in, bolstered by the shining in Newcomers eyes.  
  
“No, not at the moment,” he says, voice coming out far steadier than he’d expected, “But maybe in the future.”

  
The reaction is instantaneous. There’s clamouring, there’s shouting, there’s begs for clarification and repitiion. He can’t take his eyes off newcomer who looks shocked, as though he’d been expecting something entirely different. And Tobio no longer questions why he can't stop looking at him, thanking god he can't stop looking at him because he doesn't miss the flush that spreads across his cheeks, the gentle quirk of his brows. The shy intimate smile.

In the middle of the chaos, he thrusts his hand out.   
  
“Hinata Shouyo, Sports Week,” he says, his grip firm as he shakes Tobio’s hand, eyes eager and so bright Tobio is losing himself in them. “Now that’s out the way, can I ask you a few questions about your time-delay set up, the _swoosh_ one?”  
  
And Tobio exhales, daring to smile back.

  
  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> never underestimate the power of comments. ive been feeling a little down in the dumps but you guys made me feel so motivated, so happy and so overjoyed that I couldn't help but write a little more. I hope you like this!
> 
> dedicated to [Luke](https://twitter.com/keijikids), and here's another link to the [thread](https://twitter.com/keijikids/status/1265624377111883779?s=20).

It’s been barely a week since he met Hinata Shouyou, Sports Week, and the hashtag smilingTobio with a blurry photo from the match starts trending on an unassuming Tuesday afternoon.

That night, after he’d somehow stuttered through an explanation of the time-delay set up, after he’d found himself unable to tear his gaze from Hinata’s, after he’d blushed with every furious “Are you gay?” And focused instead on counting the freckles that were scattered over bridge of Hinata’s nose and cheeks - that night he lay back in his bath, the water soothing his aching muscles and Tobio laughs. 

The water sloshes around his shoulders, the cool marble nicks on his neck, the sound of his relieved laugh is loud, so loud in his empty apartment. It has no right, the empty rooms call at him, they’d been quiet for so long. But he can’t help it.

He laughs and laughs and at some point raises a wet hand to rub away the tears that fall, because he’s free. 

Tobio’s free. 

* * *

The relief lasts until the morning.

And then his five am alarm goes off and Tobio can’t seem to take a breath. 

It occurs to him all at once that he’s just ruined his own life, that his contract might be terminated, that everything he’d worked for is slipping from his fingers- What was he thinking? He hadn’t thinking at all. He’d seen a pretty smile, and fairy eyes, and lost it, lost his control and his efficiency and the restraint he was so famed for and-

The phone buzzes, relentlessly and viciously on his bedside table. He doesn’t realise his hands are shaking until it takes him four tries to unlock.

_ (14) new messages _

**[Ushijima-Wakatoshi:]** Good morning Kageyama-san, I can see you aren’t running yet. Do I not have competition today?

**[Hoshiumi-Kourai:]** I got told off in the group but that was pretty cool of you and I hope you know that any boyfriend you do get ISN”T GOING TO BE BETTER THAN SACHIROU

**[Schweiden Adlers GC:]** (10 unread messages). 

**[MANAGER]:** Can you give a call back when you get this Kageyama-san? We’re going to need to set up a panel and there are a few options for journalists…

He scrambles to find his managers number and call, his heart thudding in his chest. A panel made sense, sort of. Sort of like an injection he had to endure. He can't let the press go wild with this. 

He's only just managed to do something for himself, to say something for himself. He doesn't want that to end.

* * *

Hinata’s a complete stranger. They had one conversation that was barely a conversation and Tobio knows he came to some sort of emotional epiphany but the reality of the matter is, Hinata is just a reporter. Here to talk about his sports. 

But he’s here. Because Tobio asked for him to be. 

He’s here and he’s sat in the front row and when Tobio lets his gaze slide over he smiles his soft little smile.

And Tobio’s heart flips.

* * *

Just before Hinata goes to ask a question, he tilts his head. A little to the left. Considering. It’s distracting. He’s done it fourteen times now. Tobio’s been counting. 

His hair falls from behind his ear, his mic rustles, his breath whooshes out. It’s annoying. He’s annoying. 

He’s sunshine and-

Tobio wants to kiss him.

* * *

“And in the rematch against-“

“Excuse me, hasn’t he asked enough questions?” A shrill voice cut through Hinata’s, cut through Tobio’s attention focused on him, made him have to repress a grimace. 

He hadn’t realised until that point that he’s only answering Hinata’s questions. The reporter has a point. But that doesn’t mean he likes it. Hinata’s face had fallen into an angry pout. 

Tobio smirks, the nerves from before all but vanished. 

“By all means,” he says, leaning back and crossing his arms.

The reporter startles, he glances down at his notebook and the silence in the panel room is deafening. 

“What would you say is your biggest motivation?” He asks finally and Tobio clears his throat, leans forward to the mic and stares at him. 

“Yes,” he says, clearly, and without inflection. 

There isn’t a follow up. 

When he turns his head back to Hinata there’s a different look on the journalists face. Head tilted (fifteen times), lips stretched into that small intimate smile that makes Tobio blush.

* * *

He realises after, with a bottle of water clenched between his fingers and his manager pacing up and down in the little backstage room; that he’s never spoken that much in his professional career. Fuck, he’s never spoken that much in his entire life. 

He’d given his usual one word answers, tried to be polite. But  _ Hinata-  _ He has no idea what it is, he can’t even begin trying to understand why, with Hinata he just talks and talks. 

Everything he knew about himself seems to have crumbled before him. Cold, he thought himself, weird. awkward, intimidating-

And yet, Hinata had made him laugh, made him frown, made him consider and think and feel so many things in such a short amount of time. It’s that feeling of being heard, so resolutely and earnestly heard. 

It’s intoxicating. 

It’s terrifying. 

* * *

It’s months in the making. It’s a thousand little quips, it’s letting himself laugh at Hinata’s jokes, it’s retweeting him and following him, and finding where he practices. It’s Tobio only answering Hinata’s questions so often that he’s pushed to give him an interview. 

And god, in that interview, it’s everything. 

It’s not being able to take his eyes off Hinata, not for a fucking second. It’s being so close he can see the blush spread across his cheeks, the dotted freckles on the bridge of his nose. 

It’s being asked what his perfect date is and responding that  _ he’d like to just toss some balls to his date in the park _ knowing full well that last Saturday they’d been doing just that. 

It’s watching recognition filter into those beautiful fiery eyes, and watching pride spread his lips. 

It’s saying everything he can barely think to articulate with wistful looks and open body language and fingers brushing over hands, somehow, because Hinata brings it out in him, brings out his absolute best. 

It's forgetting there are cameras trained on his face, forgetting this is an interview and asking Hinata about his own life, about his community team, about his jump record.

* * *

Theres no time, none at all. He can’t grab Hinata’s hand, can’t tell him he’ll text. Can’t ask him for a proper date. He’s ushered out the interview and to the next and he wants to scream.

The rest of that day is spent looking. Even though he should be practicing with his team, even though they had games the very next day.

It’s been a long time since something felt more important than volleyball and Tobio panics when he realises Hinata is infinitely more important. 

No- Not Hinata. Maybe, who he is around Hinata. He likes this version of himself. Likes the freeing nature of conversation. Likes the witty comebacks, likes the silly sound effects, likes the intensity of emotion. 

He doesn’t want to be cold anymore. Seems like a lifetime ago. And he can't go back to it, not now he’s felt the sun. 

* * *

“Hinata-san,“ he blurts when he finally sees him, leant against the wall by the elevator and beside a ridiculous poster of Tobio in uniform. He’s tapping a pen against his lips, lost in thought, his phone open in his freehand. He’s so pretty and Tobio doesn’t understand why he thinks that of a fully grown man. 

Except when Hinata sees him he  _ beams _ and Tobio’s breath hitches, his heart hammers against his chest and he can’t help but think it again and again. He’s pretty, he’s so pretty it hurts, he’s so pretty- Starstruck. Tobio’s starstruck. 

“Thank  _ god _ ,” Hinata says, shoving his phone in his pocket, speaking as though he has any right to sound relieved when it was Tobio who played their first meeting on loop in his mind. Tobio who had ran out from his manager to stand here, panting before this infuriating little reporter and  _ want  _ him. “You’re so dense, Kageyama-san.” 

Tobio blinks at him. 

“Excuse me?” He manages, swallowing the lump in his throat. Oh- His tongue feels heavy in his mouth, palms sweating just a little. Because Hinata is pushing off the wall. Hinata is walking towards him. 

Hinata’s eyes have darkened and Tobio can feel his stomach drop at the sight of the hunger in them. 

“You heard me,” he says, “I thought I’d been imagining it but here you are.” 

Tobio only has a moment to wonder how the fuck Hinata can go from the sexiest thing he’d ever seen to overjoyed in less than a second before Hinata’s suddenly there. Right in front of him. Looking up and demanding his attention. 

Just like he had that very first time. 

Just like he had every time since then, every interview, every late night practice session, every time they’d met up. 

Every single _Kageyama-san, toss to me._

Tobio’s eyes soften. He can’t help it. 

“You’re annoying,” he says, quietly. Very quietly. And Hinata grins at him so beautifully his world flips upside down. “You weren’t imagining it.”

“No?”

Tobio had been expecting something just as forward as two seconds ago, something brash and bright and blunt. But then the most beautiful thing about Hinata was the most terrifying thing for someone like Tobio. He’s completely unpredictable. 

Tobio’s hand moves of his own accord, up, passed the press lanyard, passed the old denim jacket and there- rests on Hinata’s neck. His whole arm twitches with the realisation that he’s touch Hinata’s skin. That he’s real, skin warm, pulse thumping beneath Tobio’s fingers. 

Hinata lets out a breath and gazes at him. A gaze that isn’t filled with concern and tension, no pity or confusion. There’s something different in his eyes, something different in the way his eyes travel down from Tobio’s own to his lips. Hinata’s pupils dilate. And then he puts his hand on Tobio’s chest and Tobio stops thinking. 

A moment.

Two. 

And then-

“Hinata-“

“Kiss me.” 

Tobio surges forward at the same time Hinata does, clings to him, wraps his arms around his body and holds on for dear life. When their lips meet he trembles, shakes, loses grip on reality because Hinata’s lips are warm and soft and chapped and he- he loves it. God, he loves it. Hinata makes a noise that has him weak kneed, his fingers curled into the fabric of Tobio’s jersey before they smooth over his chest and shoulders. Tobio can barely handle it. 

They’re kissing. 

“Where have you gone?” Hinata murmurs against his lips and Tobio almost whimpers.

“Here, I’m here-“

“Good,” Hinata says and pulls back to kiss Tobio’s jaw, his neck, the corner of his mouth. Tobio’s going to break. 

“Hinata,” he manages, dropping his head to Hinata’s shoulder and snaking his arms around his waist. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time now.” 

“Try since the first time I met you, Obliviousyama,” Hinata says, his laughter bright and pure and- Tobio’s favourite sound. 

He pulls back to stare at Hinata, a little awed, a little disbelieving. It barely makes sense. 

But Hinata tilts his head, cups Tobio’s face and smiles warmly. 

“Can I do the expose on our relationship?” He says and Tobio laughs until his sides hurt. “ _ Hinata Shouyou, Sports Week, reporting live with Kageyama Tobio, pro-volleyball player and Hinata Shouyou’s boyfriend- _ “

“Shut up,” Tobio says, holding a hand over Hinata’s mouth. There’s no heat. He’s still smiling for one, wide enough that the corners of his eyes creep up. And Hinata gives him that look again, that warm intimate look that had him breathing out slowly that first time. 

He drops his hand and kisses him again. 

And again. 

He kisses him until they’re both breathless, until Hinata’s fingers hand curled into his hair and tugged for the thousandth time. He kisses him for the thousand times he wanted to push aside the mics and kiss him in front of the camera. 

Tobio kisses him and realises he never wants to stop. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> im so new to this fandom, be my friend on [twitter](https://twitter.com/ohsu_3) pls
> 
> and this characterisation was built on this solid foundation [tright here](https://twitter.com/tobioshollow/status/1253065686840115203)


End file.
